


The Face of Forever

by clgfanfic



Series: Houston Knights - Forever Series [2]
Category: Houston Knights
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe is having second thoughts</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Face of Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Dyad #5 and One in Ten #7 under the pen name Duval.

          Joseph LaFiamma glared at the radio as it spilled out another love song.  Reaching out, he turned the knob with a savage twist, silencing the sweet sentiment in midline.  He sighed heavily.

          _Jesus, why am I so damn scared?  I've got everything I've wanted.  Lundy's the best thing that's ever happened to me.  I didn't think he'd be able to give up lookin' for a woman to replace Caroline, but he has.  He **really** has.  Hell, he's ready to spend the rest of his life with me.  And what do I do?  I get scared!_

          Pulling into the now seldom used parking space at his apartment building, the Italian slipped out of the car, hoping no one stopped him to talk.  The partners had decided it would be smarter if LaFiamma made the move to Lundy's in small stages.  The department thought it was Lundy doing his extravagant partner a favor when the bills got too big for the Chicagoan's paycheck, and he took advantage of the situation to rib Joe about his expensive "tastes" whenever he could get away with it at work.

          At first it made LaFiamma nervous, afraid someone would read between the lines and discover what was really going on, but no one had.

          _Let 'em think what they want_ , Joe snarled to himself, regretting it immediately.  _This is crazy!  If anyone does find out about us. . ._ _Why the hell did I have to fall in love in Houston?  And why the hell did it have to be my partner?_

          Reaching his apartment, LaFiamma slipped the key into the lock and opened the door.  Letting it swing open, he stared into the nearly stripped interior.  The majority of his clothes and personal belongings, stereo system and TV/VCR entertainment center were already at Lundy's, stored in the small bunkhouse the department thought he was occupying, but those things that marked the Italian's personality most profoundly found their way into the house, mixing with the Texan's in an odd, but comfortable blend of the two men's personalities.

          Stepping inside, he pulled the door shut and headed for the bedroom.  Today he would gather up what was left of his belongings from the furnished apartment.  Tomorrow the landlord would inspect the place, and the day after that Joe would pick up the deposit he knew would be returned.  Lundy had made sure of that, the two of them spending a rare day off cleaning the place from top to bottom.

          _He's just letting me ease into this at my own speed_ , the Italian acknowledged.  _How can he know me so well when we're so damn different?  I've gotta be nuts. **He's** gotta be nuts!_

         

 

 

The light flashing on the answering machine caught the detective's attention, and Joe absently pressed the message button, walking off to grab the last of his clothes.

          "Hi, Joey," a soft southern voice drawled.

          LaFiamma stuck his head out of the closet.

          "This is Tammy.  I've been tryin' to get in touch with you for over a week, handsome.  I thought you were goin' to introduce me to the secrets of homemade Italian cuisine?  Please, give me a call.  I miss you."

          The machine clicked, rewound and clicked again ready to accept the next call.      Joe stared at the instrument.  Tammy Trousdale was one of the most beautiful women he had yet to meet.  An administrative assistant for a large Houston firm, she was the ideal blend of independent woman and southern lady Texas promised but seldom produced in the Chicagoan's opinion.  Introduced through a mutual friend at an apartment building barbecue, the pair had hit it off immediately.  One thing lead to another, and it wasn't long before they had became lovers.

          LaFiamma sighed.  _How long ago was that?  Two, maybe three months ago?_ Three weeks ago Tammy had left Houston for a two and a half week conference in Hawaii, Joe promising to welcome her home with an example of his cooking, followed by a night of "incredible entertainment."

          Tammy had giggled.  "I'll hold you to that, Joey," she responded, leaning forward to kiss him.

          "You're going to miss your flight," he warned.

          She pressed harder against him, circling her hips.  "Hmm, might be worth it."

          He chuckled.  "It might at that."

          He managed to get her to the airport in time for the flight, although just barely.  "Don't forget your promise," she called back as she disappeared down the concourse.

          "I won't!"

 

 

          Joe finished loading the car, stubbornly refusing to think about Tammy, or Lundy.  Confusion warred inside the detective, and by the time he finished, he felt terrible.  Walking through the apartment for the last time, he hesitated at the nightstand.  Without thinking he reached out and picked up the phone, punching out a number.

          Expecting to hear his partner's voice, LaFiamma was startled when Tammy answered.

          "Hello?"

          "Levon?"

          "Joey?  It that you?"

          "Huh, Tammy?"

          "It's good to hear your voice, Joey.  I've been tryin' to get a'hold of you.    Big case?"

          "Huh, yeah.  I'm really sorry," LaFiamma hedged, still disorientated.  _I must've dialed the wrong number_ , he concluded silently.  _Why the hell did I do that?_

          "Are you free?" the woman asked.

 

 

          "Uh–"

          "Great!  I'll be right down."

          The phone went dead but the detective continued to stand, holding the instrument and looking at it as thought it had a mind of its own.  _What the hell am  I doing?  Lundy'll get worried if I'm not back.  We have to be at Reisner._

          The handset began emitting a progressively louder obnoxious beep.  He returned it to its cradle.

          A soft knock sounded at the door.  Crossing the living room, Joe paused as the knob turned and the blond entered the apartment.  Her tan had improved, making her even more beautiful than he remembered.  She smiled at his startled expression.

          "I'm glad I can still make an impression on you," she half-purred.  "For a while there I thought you might've found someone else to keep you company."

          Crossing to him, Tammy eased her arms around the dark-haired man's neck and nibbled on his lower lip.  He groaned slightly and returned the teasing kiss with one more hard and demanding.

          "You did miss me," she whispered, pressing against him and feeling him swell against her in response.

 

 

          Their love making was more intense than she remembered, but just as satisfying.  Reaching out, she ran a fingernail over the muscular bare shoulder.

          Joe opened his eyes and grinned.  "Welcome home," he mumbled, still waiting to catch his breath.

          Tammy smiled and started to pull him into another warm up kiss when a knock at the door interrupted them.  LaFiamma stiffened.  The knock was followed by the sound of the door opening and cowboy boots echoing on the entryway tiles.

          "Hey, LaFiamma," Levon Lundy called.  "Where the hell are you, boy?  I thought you only had a couple–"

          Feeling the room begin to spin, Joe remained frozen in place as he watched his partner enter the bedroom.  The blood drained from the Texan's face, replaced as quickly by a deep blush.

          "Uh, excuse me," he stammered out.

          Tammy smiled.  "Hi, Levon.  It's my fault, really.  I delayed your partner–"

          Lundy's gaze left LaFiamma's.  "Tammy.  It's me who should be apologizin'. I should've waited for Joe to open the door.  I wasn't thinkin'–"  He turned far enough to give the couple their privacy, saying, "I'll see you at Reisner, LaFiamma."

          Joe watched the blond man walk out, feeling like his entire life was slipping away with the Texan at the same time.  Tammy hugged him under the sheet, and kissed his chin, but he hardly noticed.

          "I like Levon," she said.  "Even if he does lack manners upon occasion."

          Joe nodded, unsure as to what he should do.  Tammy saved him the trouble of working it out himself when she pinched him, saying, "Well, go on.  Go get a shower so you can go meet your partner and catch bad guys."

          "Uh, yeah."

          "Is Levon doin' okay these days?" she asked as Joe slid from the bed.

          "Why do you ask?"

 

 

          "He just looked a little strange, that's all."

          "It's nothin'," the Italian lied.

          "Joe, how 'bout I set up a double date with us and Levon?  Sandy Tyler would love to meet him, as she keeps telling me all the time.  Do you think he'd like that?"

          "I don't know," Joe hedged.  "We've got this case–"

          Tammy nodded.  "Okay.  When it's over.  Maybe then?"

          "Yeah," LaFiamma agreed.  "Maybe then."

 

 

          The drive to Reisner was the longest Joe remembered making.  The look on Lundy's face haunted him the whole time, the depth of pain shining in the blue-brown eyes refusing to fade from his memory.  _Betrayal.  That's what they said.     I betrayed him_.

          Pulling up alongside the red Jimmy, Joe parked the sportscar and climbed out.  Esteban Gutierrez emerged from the elevator, and spotting La Fiamma, headed over to join him.

          "LaFiamma, what's wrong with your partner?"

          "What do you mean?" the Italian asked.

          "He showed up a little while ago looking like he'd been smoking some Mexican brown.  You know what I mean?  Is something wrong?"

          "I don't know," the Italian snapped.

          The Hispanic detective studied the man for a moment, then shrugged.  "Okay, but I hope you two work it out soon.  You both look like shit."  With that, the detective turned and headed off for his own truck.  LaFiamma watched him go with a growing dread.

          _I have to face Levon.  Explain.  Tell him the truth.  I'm scared.  I'm just scared.  Tammy doesn't mean anything to me.  I found that out.  I don't want her, or that old lifestyle, or another woman.  I want Lundy.  That's all I need.  I know that now, but how am I going to get him to believe me?  And he has to believe me._

          Walking into the office, LaFiamma flinched at the stares that met him.  He knew Lundy wasn't good at hiding his feeling sometimes – other times he was too damn good – and it was clear that the rest of the Major Crimes day shift were holding him personally responsible for his partner's foul mood.

          _And I am_ , Joe sighed inwardly.  _I am.  God, I'm so stupid sometimes!_

          "LaFiamma, in my office," Lieutenant Joanna Beaumont called.

          Ignoring the continuing stares, the detective stalked into the small office, closing the door behind him.

          "Lieutenant," he said.

          "Sit down, Joe."  She waited until he looked slightly more comfortable before she continued.  "Look, I know it's probably none of my business, but–"

          "Look, Lieutenant, if this is about Lundy and I–"

          "It's about two of my detectives, two of my **friends** ," she snapped.  LaFiamma looked down at the pattern on carpet.  "I don't know what the hell's going on between the two of you, but it's got to stop."

          The Italian's head came up with a snap.  Did she know?

          "I can't have the two of you running around like a couple of lone wolves whenever you feel like it.  You're partners.  Partners, understand?  That means you're supposed to work **together**."

 

          "Yeah, I know, but–"

          "No buts, LaFiamma.  I don't care what it is this time, I just want the two of you to work it out, or leave it at home.  Is that clear?"

          "Yes."

          "Good.  Now, go find him.  He looked terrible."

          LaFiamma stood, wondering if he could confide in the woman.  She was a friend, and a good one at that, one of the few people who had backed him all along. Still, what could he say?  Well, Joanna, we had a lover's quarrel . . . but that wasn't even the truth.  _I blew it.  I betrayed his trust_.

          "Is there something you want to say, LaFiamma?"

          He shook his head.  "Maybe later."

          Joanna watched the man leave and sighed.  The others might not know what was going on, but she was pretty sure she did.  "I just hope they don't kill each other before they get it worked out," she said under her breath as she returned to the open report on her desk.

 

 

          The Jimmy was gone.  LaFiamma sighed and climbed into the car, and reached for the mike, but stopped short of actually keying it.

          _No_ , he thought.  _I know where he's going_.

          Several blocks from Chicken's LaFiamma's interest abruptly turned to the events unfolding on the radio as a hostage situation began to play itself out.  Cursing slightly under his breath when he heard Lundy log in at the scene, he jerked the steering-wheel around and gunned the engine to join his partner.

 

 

          The line of patrol cars that blocked the street off halted his hasty progress.  He parked.  Removing his badge, he flipped it open to gain access from one of the young men in uniform.  Weaving his way along the cover offered by other cars, LaFiamma soon found himself with Esteban and Carol.

          "What's up?"

          "Hostage situation, upward of fifty women," the young woman he fondly called "Legs" replied.  "Seems some guy's flipped out and he's in there with guns and explosives.  He used to work for the textile company, but he was laid off."

          Joe scanned the building, registering the Lowell Textile Company sign.  "And he wants to get even, huh?"

          "Something like that," Esteban said.  "He's threatening to burn the building with himself and the hostages in it if the owner doesn't come down and meet him face to face."

          "Is the owner coming?"

          "He's in Miami, on vacation."

          "Great.  Where's Lundy?"

          "I saw him heading around the other side of the warehouse," Carol supplied. "Joe-Bill and Dobins from Vice are over there, too.  Additional SWAT teams are on the way."

          "Who's running the show?"

          "Captain Roberts."

 

 

          LaFiamma nodded.  He was a good man, for a SWAT officer.  It was just a wait and see operation at this point, and Joe hoped that whoever they had trying to

negotiate with the man could pull off a peaceful surrender.  If the guy torched the building, there would be no guessing how many might be killed.

 

 

          An hour dragged on, raising Joe's level of anxiety.  Never one for waiting, he decided to make his way around the other side of the building.  At least if he was with Lundy he'd feel a little more comfortable with the wait.  Maybe he'd have a chance to talk to the man.  He'd delayed it as long as he could.

          Speaking with the captain on the way, he accepted the "do nothing" command and headed out to find his partner.

 

 

          Exactly how the situation broke down LaFiamma was unsure, but when the building exploded, it took the Italian by surprise.  Slammed into the humidity-damp pavement, he was momentarily stunned.  The sounds of voices, barking out hurried orders, and gunfire greeted his return to consciousness.  Carol and Esteban were helping him to cover.  Fire exploded from several of the windows on the second story.

          The three detectives stared, unable to respond to the next series of explosions that blew out the windows on the upper stories.  The fire spread rapidly and the air choked with heavy smoke and the screams of sirens as the fire department forced its way past the police barricades.  Several women appeared at the jagged windows, jumping into the masses of police and firemen gathering below.

          LaFiamma shook his head and staggered to his feet.  The three joined the chaos, helping as best they could with the injured.  Carol and Esteban each moved back, supporting women who had jumped rather than face death in the burning inferno the old building had become.  Several shots rang out and Joe found himself dragging a young fireman to a waiting ambulance.

          "What the hell?" one of the firemen yelled.  "I'm not sending my men in there to get shot!"

          Captain Roberts nodded.  "I don't want you to, but we have to contain this fire.  The whole neighborhood could go up."

          "You don't think I realize that?"  The fire captain turned to one of his men, growling out several orders.  "I just want you and your men to stop this nut from killing my guys in the process!  That's not their job!"

          "I'm doing the best I can!  My teams are in the building now, looking for him."

          "Captain," LaFiamma called.  "What can I do?"

          The man's gaze settled on the Italian.  "Hell if I know, LaFiamma.  We don't have spare equipment, so you stay the hell out of that building.  That's a direct order!"

          As another explosion echoed through the late afternoon air, and Joe nodded and moved away.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Lundy pulled himself up off the pavement and shook his head.  "Jesus," he drawled as the flames snaked out of the second floor windows, raining glass down

on the men closer to the building.  Moving with the closest SWAT team, he followed them to the side of the warehouse as a second explosion ripped through the building.  The flying glass missed them as they pressed against the outside wall.  Moving in unison they proceeded to the nearest door, crashing it in.

          A handful of women screamed and rushed toward them.  Lundy could see that many had been injured.  Several of the officers helped the women outside and toward the too few ambulances and paramedics who were waiting.  Grabbing the arm of one of the younger, uninjured girls, the Texan sat her down in the front seat of a patrol car.

          "Ma'am, can you tell me what happened?"

          She nodded, wiping tears away from large brown eyes.  "Carlos, he's crazy.  He has guns, lots of guns that shoot very fast."  Lundy nodded, pulling his handkerchief from his back pocket and handing it to the young woman.  "He made the explosions.  The women, we were scared.  When we saw the fire, we ran.  He shot at us."

          She began to cry, and Lundy reached in and hugged her gently.  "Shh, it's gonna be okay now, these men will see you're taken care of."  She nodded against his shoulder.

          "Lundy, we need your help."

          The blond turned to find one of the SWAT men standing next to him, shouting over the general bedlam.  "That guy's shootin' at the firemen.  The captain wants us to see if we can get in and  take him out before the whole damn block burns.  Three of the guys are gettin' treated for the smoke.  Here," he handed the detective a small tank and a large clear half-bubble mask.

          Lundy nodded.

 

 

          The oxygen mask made it possible for Levon to breathe, but the smoke cut down his visibility, forcing him to watch the man in front of him rather than scanning the building.  A burst of automatic fire snapped the Texan's attention to the scaffolding above them just in time to see the flash from the muzzle before he felt the sharp burn enter his chest.

          The swirling smoke darkened and Lundy thought he heard someone telling at him to lie still before the darkness grew too thick to see through and he slid into a dark haven from the general confusion.

 

 

          LaFiamma saw the men dragging the shooter out and sighed a thankful breath.  It was over.  The fire captain was calling out rapid orders, his men scattering to carry them out.  Joe moved back, not wanting to be in their way.  Before long he was with the rest of the remaining police, huddled around the SWAT vans.  David Sorsenson, a detective in major crimes before he requested transfer into the special weapons unit trotted over to join LaFiamma.

          "Hey, Joe!"

          "David, I should have known you would have been here–"

 

 

          "Have you heard about Levon?"

          "Lundy?"

          "Yeah,  he was with Carson's group in the building.  He took a chest shot.  They said it looked pretty bad, man.  I'm sorry."

          LaFiamma was moving before Sorsenson's last words, heading for the nearest ambulance.  _No Lundy_.  He sprinted to the next.

          "Hey, who are you?" one of the EMT's asked, grabbing Joe's jacket.

          "I'm a cop," he said in a near-snarl, jerking back the jacket to reveal the gold badge hanging from his waist.  "My partner was shot."

          "Sorry," the young man said.  "All we have are two women.  Try Eddie's rig.  He had a critical," he said, nodding to another ambulance not far away.

          La Fiamma thanked him and started over to the vehicle at a quick trot.  As he got closer he could see the two paramedics working over someone.  A flash of blond hair, reflecting red in the light from the firetrucks slowed him to a walk.  The medics arranged a second IV and picked up the gurney, sliding it into the back of the ambulance.  LaFiamma sprinted the remainder of the distance.

          "Hey, hold up!"

          "We can't wait, buddy, this guy needs–"

          LaFiamma ignored the words, pushing past the paramedic to look in at the injured man.  It was Lundy.  Joe felt the world ripple around him.  The medic reached out to steady him.

          "Hey, you okay?"

          "Yeah.  I'm goin' with you."

          "But–"

          "That's my partner!"

          "Up front," the man replied, climbing in alongside Levon.  LaFiamma nodded and headed for the passenger seat while the second man closed the rear door.

          The ride to the hospital was a blur, LaFiamma lost in his own thoughts.  Words washed over him, the paramedic calling into the hospital, the reply, the other man calling out Lundy's vital signs.  It was all one long, confused sentence that Joe couldn't quite get a grasp on.  The Italian rubbed at the small lump on the side of his head.

          _Lundy, you gotta be okay, man.  I've got to tell you... I have to tell you I want a life with you, a damned Texas . . . I love you.  Damn it, Lundy!  I swear you do this on purpose_

 

 

          Joanna sat silently while Joe continued to pace in the otherwise empty waiting room.  Lundy had been in surgery for an hour and a half, just long enough to set both of them on edge.

          "Joe," she said softly.

          "Yeah?"

          "Thank you."

          "For what?"

          "Stopping.  That pacing was starting to drive me crazy."

          Joe grinned.  "Sorry."  He walked over and sat down next to the woman.  "You think he'll be okay?"

 

 

          "I hope so," she whispered, rubbing at her eyes.  It had been far too long of a day.  "You want to tell me what's wrong between you two, now?"

          La Fiamma sighed heavily.  "No, not yet."

          She reached out and put a supporting hand on the detective's shoulder.  "Okay.  But if you do, later, I'll be here."

          "Thanks, Joanna."

          Beaumont smiled, but LaFiamma was already distracted.  The doctor joined them.

          "Are you waiting to hear about Detective Lundy?"

          "Yes, we are," Joe said, stepping closer to the man.  "I'm Detective LaFiamma.  Lundy's my partner."

          "Lieutenant Joanna Beaumont," she said, shaking hands with the surgeon when Joe finished.

          "Let's sit down, shall we?"  The pair followed the older man over to the still warn couch and sat down.  "First, Detective Lundy came through the surgery splendidly.  He's in recovery and we have him listed as in stable condition."

          "Then he's going to be all right?"

          The doctor nodded enthusiastically.  "Oh, yes.  He'll be back to work within a month, I should think.  The bullet entered his chest cavity, but it was deflected by a rib," he said, pointing to a spot a few inches to the right of his own heart.  "That saved him a tremendous amount of internal damage.  As it was, the bullet followed along the rib, fracturing it."  He drew a finger back along a rib as far as he could reach.  "And then stopped behind the right lung.  There was no damage to the lung, as far as we can tell.  We had to go in from the back to extract the slug, but, given the damage that was possible from such a hit, Detective Lundy's a very lucky man. He'll be out of recovery in six hours and we'll have give him a room in the Acute Care Unit for another twenty-four hours, just to be sure."

          "When can we see him?" La Fiamma asked.

          "Tomorrow morning, I should think.  He should be awake then, barring any complications."

          "Complications?" Joanna asked.

          "Well, when Detective Lundy was struck by the bullet, he was also thrown back onto a concrete floor, where he struck his head and jarred off the oxygen mask he was wearing.  He experienced some minor smoke inhalation, and a mild concussion.  Normally we wouldn't worry too much about that, but given the trauma of the shooting we want to monitor him rather closely for any indications of coma."

          LaFiamma's somewhat relieved expression turned grim again.  "Is there a real chance for that?"

          "To be honest, we just can't tell at this point."

          LaFiamma closed his eyes for a moment, then said,  "In the morning, huh?"

          The doctor nodded.  "I'm Dr. Hendersen.  I'll be checking in on Detective Lundy around seven.  Visiting hours start at eight; why don't I meet you in the hospital cafeteria between seven-thirty and eight?" 

          The detective nodded.

          "Thank you," Lieutenant Beaumont added.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          LaFiamma sat in the hospital cafeteria, sipping on a cup of bad coffee, and waiting for Dr. Hendersen to join him.  He checked his watch.  It was five minutes to eight.  About to give up on the doctor, Joe sighed when the older man

appeared from around the corner of the serving area carrying a tray with a cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal.

          "Good morning," he said, joining the detective.

          "How's Lundy?"

          The doctor stirred cream into his coffee as he explained.  "Well, his vital signs have improved, and it looks like the wound is draining fine, but he hasn't woken up, yet."

          "What does that mean?"

          "Just that he is taking longer to come around than I thought, but as long as the ECG stays normal, it should be fine."

          "Can I still see him?"

          "I don't see why not.  He should wake up anytime now; maybe you'll be able to bring him around.  He's in room 323, west."

          "Thanks," Joe said, heading off.  The doctor watched him go, smiling at the depth of the man's concern.  He was sure Detective Levon Lundy would be fine, but it was safer not to let on, just in case something should go wrong.  Malpractice insurance was bad enough as it was.

 

 

          LaFiamma glanced around the circular ward, disconcerted by the glass walls that isolated each cubical while at the same time creating a sense of exposure.  A circular nurses' station at the center of the room was busy, and Joe forced himself to scan the various beds until he spotted the blond man.

          Lundy was lying perfectly still, the bed elevated  to aid the draining wound.  The dark-haired detective entered quietly, walking over to stand next to his partner. The sound of the machinery startled him as it engaged, removing the excess fluid from Lundy's chest.

          Levon was pale, and shallow pain lines were set on his face, pinching his eyes together at the corners.

          Reaching out, LaFiamma rested his hand on the injured man's arm.

"Lundy?" he said softly.  There was no response except the continued whir and beeping from the bank of instruments above the bed.  "Levon?"

          LaFiamma fought back the emotions that knotted in his throat, blocking the words he wanted to say.  He let his fingers move lightly along the blond's cheek.

          The Italian backed away, walking over to grab a chair.  He carried it over to the side of the bed.  One of the nurses smiled momentarily at him as she passed by.

          Sitting down, LaFiamma began his vigil.

 

 

          Dr. Hendersen stopped by just after lunch and chased the detective out, ordering him to go get something to eat.  The Italian complied reluctantly, but was nevertheless thankful to be away from the increasingly claustrophobic surroundings. When he returned to the cubical, the doctor was gone.

 

 

          Taking up his seat again, Joe noticed a change in Lundy.  The pain lines had eased some, and a hint of color had returned to the tanned cheeks.  Joe watched carefully as the blond's eyes moved sluggishly under the closed lids, finally cracking open slightly when he leaned forward and took Levon's hand into his own.

          "Joe?" the Texan asked hoarsely, squeezing.

          "I'm right here."

          Levon coughed and winced.  "Feels like I was kicked by a three dollar mule."

          LaFiamma smiled.  "I saw the doctor.  You're going to be just fine."

          Lundy nodded, blinking to try and clear his distorted vision.  When he could see La Fiamma clearly, he was surprised to find the man disheveled and drawn.

          "Look, Lundy, there's something I have to tell you–"

          "Hey, Joe?"

          "Yeah?"

          "Water?"

          La Fiamma looked around the space, spotting a small light blue pitcher and plastic cup on a bed tray in the corner.  Abandoning the blond just long to fill the cup and carry it back, he helped the man take a few sips, then sat the container aside.

          "'M sorry about runnin' off like that," the blond said, his voice stronger, but still interrupting the carefully rehearsed speech Joe had spent the entire night going over in his mind.  "I was actin' stupid. . ."

          "Lundy, listen, I want to explain–"

          "The guy, at the factory, they get him?"

          LaFiamma frowned.  "Yeah.  They got him.  Now, listen to me.  I–"

          "The hostages?"

          "They're fine!" Joe snapped, his voice climbing.  Several of the nurses paused in mid-activity, turning to look at the dark-haired man.  He smiled at them sheepishly, then turned his attention back to his partner, but before he could pick up with his speech, Lundy locked him with one of his "listen to me, boy" stares.

          "LaFiamma, I was wrong.  I told you at the beginnin' I wouldn't tie ya down, and the first thing I did is get possessive–"

          "Lundy, shut up a minute, will you?" Joe  hissed under his breath.

          The blond rolled his head to one side, confused.  If LaFiamma wanted to see women, well, he'd get used to it.  Lundy knew his partner wasn't the monogamous type.  He'd just have to learn to deal with it.  Because he sure as hell wasn't giving it up . . . not without a fight.

          LaFiamma waited for a moment to make sure his partner was going to let him say what he had to without an interruption.  Lundy remained silent.  "It's about Tammy.  She's–"

          "Excuse me?"

          La Fiamma turned to find a young nurse standing at the door to the room.  "I need to check Mr. Lundy's chest tube.  If you could just wait outside, it won't take but a minute."

          The Italian nodded, moving outside to wait.  _It's a plot!_ he concluded emphatically.  _Someone's having a real big laugh on the two of us.  We're acting like a couple of school-girls with overactive hormones!_

 

 

 

          The nurse emerged sooner than Joe expected, telling him he could go back in.  He nodded, returning like Daniel entering the lion's den.  Levon looked up at the man, a flash of pain passing across the sharp features.

          LaFiamma moved quickly to the side of the bed.  "You okay?"  He reached out, resting a concerned hand on the man's arm.

          Lundy looked at the hand resting there, truthfully confused.  "Yeah, just a little uncomfortable when I move the wrong way."         LaFiamma was acting like he was sorry about what had happened with Tammy.  _Why?_ he wondered.  _He's not like me.  He's not a forever man.  I understand that_.

          Joe gripped his lover's arm more tightly.  "Listen, Lundy, what I've been trying to tell you . . . I, I was wrong, man.  It's so confused, but–"  He looked at the blue-brown eyes, silently pleading for the man to understand.  "I was scared."

          "Scared?"

          "Scared of what we have." 

          Lundy's brow furrowed. 

          "It's good, Lundy.  Real good.  And it scares me.  I wasn't thinking, or maybe I was trying to run, but–  Look, Tammy was just there, and–"

          "Joe."

          "I let her.  We–"

          "Joe."

          "It wasn't like you and me.  It wasn't– "

          "Joe!" Lundy said more forcefully, drawing a grunt of pain, followed by a long shuddering breath.

          "What?"

          "You had to be sure, right?" Levon asked, his eyes glazing over slightly.

          "Yeah, I guess I did."

          "And are you?"

          "Yes, I am."

          "Good.  Me, too.  Now would you get on outta here so I can get some rest?"

          LaFiamma fought the smile off his face, and reined in the urge to bend over and kiss the man where he lay.  "You're a pain in the ass sometimes, Lundy."

          "Someone's gotta keep ya in line, LaFiamma," the Texan slurred, his eyes closing.

          "Yeah, and boy am I glad it's gonna be you, partner.  I saw the face of forever, Levon.  And it was yours."

          "That's real nice."

          The Italian blushed; he'd assumed the man was asleep.  "Get some rest, partner. I'll see you tomorrow."  A soft snore was the reply.  Looking over his shoulder, LaFiamma scanned the area for anyone paying particular attention to he and Levon.  When he didn't see anyone, he bent forward, brushing the man's forehead with his lips.  "I love ya, you crazy Texan."

          Brushing the dampness from his eyes, Joe walked out of the room.

          "Love you, too, Joseph Anthony LaFiamma," Lundy said softly, opening his eyes just a crack, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

 


End file.
